I don’t want you thinking I make a habit of sniffing rock stars, but you can’t help noticing that for a band who’ve been touring non-stop for the past five months The Hives are extremely fragrant.

Unfortunately this high standard of personal hygiene – unless my nose deceives me, Howlin’ Pelle is a L’eau D’Issey Pour Homme man – doesn’t extend to all the groups who’ve supported them.
“We did some shows in Germany with a death metal band called Dismember who carry round a supply of pig’s blood to throw on themselves and the crowd,” Pelle grimaces. “It’s probably okay if it’s fresh, but this stuff was a month old and smelt terrible. It didn’t help that coming off stage they didn’t always bother to shower.”
So they wouldn’t be heavy metal fans?
“No, we all listen to Slayer and Sepultura. And Krokus.”
What, the Swiss poodle perm AOR-sters who made Europe sound like Cannibal Corpse in comparison?
“The hair and the spandex wasn’t great,” he admits, “but they had some good songs.”
Advocates of looking as sharp off stage as they do on it, Howlin’ Pelle, his older brother Nicholaus Arson and the mustachioed Dr Matt Destruction have turned up for our chinwag in matching white bowling jackets which have their names embroidered on the back.
“We’re here to work,” sniffs Arson who has the air of a man who’d rather be wanking pigs in hell than having to explain himself to another stoopid hack. Studied nonchalance turns to withered disdain when I proffer that for all the talk of a new Kraftwerkian direction, The Hives’ sophomore album finds them sticking firmly to their garage rock guns.
“Of course it’s a Kraftwerk record,” he insists. “It’s got that very perfect man/machine thing going on – we wanted it to be ‘pristine’ without necessarily using synthesisers.”
Er, has he got any hobbies?
“Racecar driving.”
What sort of cars?
“Fast ones. On a circuit.”
Any spectacular crashes?
“One,” Howlin’ Pelle answers for him, “when he was map-reading for a rally driver friend of his. His sense of direction isn’t very good.”
Tonight’s Dublin Ambassador show finds The Hives indoors again after a prolonged bout of summer festival-ing. Of the one or two hiccups that occurred along the way, the most notable is a run-in with Velvet Revolver at the KROQ Radio Weenie Roast in California.
“We told them to ‘shut up’ because they were soundchecking their drums while we were playing,” Arson resumes.
I imagine they’re quite a loud band.
“Not louder than we are, but that sort of thing is bad manners.”
An altogether more pleasant experience was hanging out with Iggy Pop.
“We admire Iggy a lot and he thinks we’re a good group, so we stood around liking each other,” Dr. Matt Destruction takes-over. “We did Download in England with him and Slipknot. We were told they’d throw piss at us because it’s more of a metal festival, but we didn’t see any of it.”
“It wasn’t like Reading,” Pelle resumes, “where 50 Cent had to leave the stage because of the missiles. None of the white acts were treated like that, so maybe it was racism.”
“Iggy was nice,” Arson volunteers, “but you’ve got to remember he’s 60, has two Rolls Royces and lives in Florida because you can play golf there all year round. His outlook is maybe a little different to ours.”
There was more hobnobbing with rock royalty last year when they opened for the band that includes well-known Howlin’ Pelle lookalike Mick Jagger.
“Ronnie Wood was the most sociable, but Mick and the other Stones were friendly too,” Pelle concludes. “I’ve stopped being starstruck in these situations because, you know, we’re a pretty shit hot rock ‘n’ roll band too.”

The Hives’ Tyrannosaurus Hives album is out now on Universal